A Born Healer
by romeli.roe
Summary: Kagome Higaurashi, a noblewoman from the outposts, determines to save the life of her brother Souta, who suffers from a mysterious disease no one can cure. Along the way she gets more than she bargained for, in the form of the halfdemon prince, Inuyasha
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha. Wish I did, but sadly, I don't.

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**_A Born Healer_**

**Chapter One: The Three Higaurashis**

The cloying stench of incense was the first thing that Kagome Higaurashi noticed when she sidled into her younger brother's bedchamber. It stung her nostrils and made her eyes water as she approached his bedside. The thick perfume was made all the worse by the fact that each of the four windows were latched tightly shut, not even open a crack to let in some much needed air and she was forced to hold back a sneeze.

Upon reaching her mother's side Kagome dropped down into a spindly-legged wooden chair. A small tin box, painted a fading red, was perched on her knees. A shuffling of skirts was the only sign that Lady Higaurashi had even heard her daughter enter the room.

"How does he fare?" Kagome whispered.

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances," was her mother's tired, taut reply. Glad that he hadn't worsened, Kagome nodded her acknowledgement of the statement. Diseases were never easy to predict. Nobody had expected, only three weeks ago, that young Souta, so full of life and youthful vigour, could have succumbed so quickly to the mysterious workings of an unknown illness.

Aside from the three Higaurashis the room was empty. It had once belonged to Kagome's father before his disappearance six years ago, and was the place he had slept when he'd had an argument with his bull-headed wife. He'd made sure it was the most luxurious in the Manor because he had liked his finery and slept there more often than in the bedroom he shared with Lady Higaurashi. Whether he slept in solitary confinement out of choice or not was undecided; he had certainly seemed happy enough to have a bed to himself.

Now it, along with the rest of the Manor, surrounding land and dubious title, belonged to Souta Higaurashi. The young boy, thirteen now, was Lord of the estate. It was a heavy burden to bear, not least because of the huge gambling debts the former Lord Higaurashi had incurred during his life. Souta was young; too young for the responsibilities that had been forced upon him so early in life.

The room was dark and gaudy in its opulence. Every piece, from the ornately carven four-poster to the delicate silver mirror which hung upon charcoal wallpaper was easily discernable as of the most expensive taste, though several years out of fashion. The room was a testament to the family's financial history, and present.

The two women sat in tense silence, each thankful that Souta was recuperating but wary of the other's presence. Kagome and Lady Higaurashi had never gotten on particularly well. Kagome might be the woman's only daughter, and if Souta's condition didn't improve quite possibly could soon be her only offspring still alive, but they knocked heads over everything small thing. Lady Higaurashi was a firm believer in propriety, genteelness and proper appearances. Kagome was a firm believer in everything that was the antithesis of those things.

The uncomfortable silence was suddenly broken by a hacking wheeze from the bed and its solitary, unhealthily pale occupant.

"Souta!" Kagome cried in concern, rising from her seat so suddenly that her tin fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Kagome?" whispered the young boy weakly, trying to sit up on his pillows to get a better look at her. It seemed like too much of a struggle for him and he tired in the middle of his efforts, flopping back into his former position.

"Yes Souta, I'm here," she replied encouragingly, leaning forward and clasping his wretchedly dry hands. The sight of new purple welts and bruises worried her greatly, but there was so little in her power that she could do to help him. She hated that fact.

"Did you bring them?" he asked. His voice was so feeble it was no more than a whisper.

"Of course," Kagome assured, pulling her hand from his frail grip. She bent and scooped the tin box from the ground and set it before him with a jangle. Souta's eyes, so dull since he had fallen to illness, lit up with the brightness of the sun.

"Thank-you, 'Gome," he breathed, reaching out for his sister's gift.

"Think nothing of it, Souta."

Souta grasped the latch holding it shut tight and attempted to wrench it open, but illness had taken a toll on his strength and he was forced to concede to defeat after several tries.

"It seems that I am too weak…" he began, but was broken off by a violent coughing fit and he doubled over, wheezing. Lady Higaurashi gave an involuntary cry. Kagome rushed from her brother's side, jerked the door open and bellowed for one of the servants to fetch the village healing woman. When the fit finally died down, Kagome could tell that those thirty seconds of agony had robbed him of any strength he might have regained over the night's restless sleep.

Wordlessly, Kagome reached over and lifted his hand away from the tin, before opening the latch with a satisfying click. She prised the lid open, and angled the box so that her reclining brother could see its contents.

"I like Captain Horsby best," he said faintly, fingering one of the toy soldiers before closing his eyes in fatigue and giving in to the sleep he so desperately needed.

Lady Higaurashi sat back down abruptly, and left her daughter to gently remove the metal figurine from Souta's limp hand and drop it back into the tin box where it belonged.

Just as Kagome had returned to her seat, ready for another sleepless night, the door crashed open once again to reveal a hunching, elderly woman with a patch over her right eye and as many wrinkles as a pauper's tunic.

"How is he, my Lady?" she panted. The woman had obviously worked herself very hard to arrive quickly. Her long grey hair had fallen out of its sensible braid and she was heaving with the effort of every breath. "I came as soon as I was called." Her single eye took in the scene before her, especially that of a slumbering Souta, and she seemed to visibly relax.

Lady Higaurashi did not reply, but turned her disdainful glare to the wall opposite.

"Kaede," Kagome said softly, "Thank-you for coming so quickly, but Souta is fine now. He was in the middle of a frightful coughing fit before, but they're common enough and I overreacted. I feel a little silly calling for you, actually." She gave a small smile, as if to apologize for tearing the healing woman from her duties, or pleasures, in the village.

Rather than reassuring Kaede, which had been the intention of Kagome's words, the healing woman looked even more harried.

"He was awake?" she asked urgently.

Kagome cocked her head, confused.

"Yes, he was, and in fairly good spirits too, considering. Why? Is something wrong Kaede?"

"That sleeping draught I gave ought to have lasted longer than this. Much longer. He should not have reawakened for several hours yet, if not more. What kind of devilry is this illness?"

Kagome didn't like the agitated tone with which Kaede spoke.

"What are you saying Kaede? Surely you can do something?"

Kaede sighed and looked at the floor.

"I know not what it means, Lady Kagome."

Lady Higaurashi, who had until this moment remained forgotten at Souta's bedside, spoke up angrily.

"We pay you well for your services, Kaede. I expect results!"

"Of course, my lady, but this is no easy case of the cold. Excuse me, but if this all I would like to conduct a quick assessment of his condition, and then I really should return to the village."

Lady Higaurashi sniffed, unconvinced, but stayed seated.

Kaede shuffled closer to Souta's unconscious form and bent over him. Kagome couldn't see what exactly she was doing, but wished, with all her heart, that she could do it too. She felt so utterly helpless.

She hovered by the door once Kaede, declaring that Souta was no worse than before, had left. She was struck by a very arresting idea. It would displease her mother and required behaviour unbecoming of a lady but Kagome knew in the very depths of her heart that it would be worth it. She would do anything to help her brother recover, even if it meant putting propriety on the line. She spun from the room, ignoring her mother's admonishing "Kagome!" and hurried after Kaede.

"Wait!" she called once she'd left the house, forgetting her mother's rule that young ladies were better seen but not heard and certainly never ran. The manor servants, however, were too used to her brash nature to give the display any thought.

Kaede paused and turned to face the person hailing her.

"Lady Kagome, what is it?" Her eye widened and glanced at the window behind which a very sick Souta rested. "Is it Master Souta?"

"No, Kaede. I just… I have a favour to ask you."

This piqued the old lady's interest.

"Really? Pray tell, my lady."

"I want you to teach me how to heal."

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"Well done, Lady Kagome," Kaede said, pleased at her young student's progress. A small basket lay before her, on the woven mat which protected her feet, and her herbs, from the dusty floor. Little bearskin pouches, the expensive kind but old and worn, were packed tightly inside the hamper. Kaede reached to the bottom and drew out a small phial of deep green liquid and inspected it with her expert eye. 

"Clever girl," she said, admiring the potion with satisfaction. "As I said, this is a commendable effort, Lady Kagome. You shall soon outstrip my talents in the healing arts; you certainly have the gift."

Kagome, who had rather vainly enjoyed the praise, shook her head at this last remark.

"Don't be silly Kaede. I've got a lot to learn still and you are so wise!"

Kaede chuckled, secretly flattered.

"Nonsense; if I were so wise I would never have agreed to accept you as a student."

Kagome pouted.

"Sometimes, Kaede, I cannot tell if you are jesting or not."

Three months had passed since Kagome had made her request and she had not been surprised when Kaede had refused her at first. Kagome, however, was her mother's daughter, and skilled at arguing. All those hours rowing with Lady Higaurashi seemed to have been useful after all and, before the hour had passed, Kaede had reluctantly succumbed.

Thus Kagome found herself in almost all of her spare hours, the ones in which Souta slept, in the village of the Second South-Western Outpost, which was too small to merit its own name.

At first, Kagome's lessons had consisted of menial, painfully basic tasks, but she could concoct several antidotes now, could recognise and prepare many herbs and roots for medicines, and knew how to fix poultices. She'd learned the pressure-points of the body, and where the main veins and arteries were to be found as well as the basic functions and locations of all organs. She'd even tried her hand at directing energy flow a few times, though her attempts were weak. Kaede had tried to tell her that most novice healers couldn't manage even half of what she had achieved in energy flow in their first two years of apprenticeship, but Kagome had been disappointed when all she'd gotten was a faint glow that lasted barely half a minute.

Kaede was a hard taskmistress, but had an incredible depth and breadth of knowledge. Kagome felt that she couldn't have picked a better instructor and had come to believe that such a person simply could not exist.

She, however, was impatient for the real healing to begin. It was all very well collecting herbs and mixing potions, but she had yet to put her knowledge to practise. She was well aware that three months was not nearly sufficient to learn even one tenth of what she was required to know as a healer, but she could not see how a medicine for aching jaws could possibly help Souta recover.

The Goddess had been merciful for the past three months. It seemed that the initial weeks of Souta's mystery illness had been the worst, and most rapidly degenerative, but once they had passed Souta's deterioration had apparently halted. He was awake most of the time, and though he perpetually suffered incredible discomfort, he had felt nothing that could be termed excruciating. He spent many of his waking hours with the toy soldiers Kagome had brought him, or reading. His favourite books were those on ancient wars, heroes and bravery.

"These herbs will soon become scarce, as soon as the winter settles in. You have done a great service, Lady Kagome."

Kagome, who had tried unsuccessfully many times to correct Kaede's formal way of addressing her, ignored the honorific.

"It was no problem, Kaede." She glanced outside and frowned. "It's growing late, and if I don't return home soon I'll be missed." She gave an apologetic smile and Kaede nodded her agreement.

"I shall see you tomorrow. You have done good work."

Lady Higaurashi's chosen escort for Kagome's daily forays into the village stood outside Kaede's door. He had a strangely deformed face, which he hid behind a mask of bandages. Kagome only knew of his true face because she had stumbled upon him by accident one day as he changed the dressing. Kagome had hidden behind the slightly open door that led to his rooms and watched with horrified fascination as his real features were revealed to her for the first time. They were grotesque, but strangely compelling. He had yet to know that she had been spying, and he didn't know that she had seen his true visage. At least, she hoped he didn't.

"Lady Kagome," he said politely, with the smallest hint of a bow.

"Onigumo," she replied coldly. As much as she tried, for her mother's sake, she just couldn't bring herself to like the man. In fact, she could barely tolerate him. It was only her mother's insistence that she required what Lady Higaurashi believed to be a trustworthy escort if she was to visit the village that saw her in the company of such a secretive and distasteful individual.

He detached himself from the wall which he had been leaning against and followed her, sticking to her like a fly to honey. They spoke not a word as they trudged through the dirt-paved paths that ran through the tiny village, all the way up to Higaurashi Manor at the crown of the scraggy hill. It wasn't until she was safely indoors that he left her side. Already irked by Onigumo's presence, she swept into Souta's room, skirts flying, eager to vent her frustrations by giving her brother, who was a great listener, an earful of her problems.

He still sat in bed because, although his symptoms had alleviated, he was not yet out of the woods. He was quietly amusing himself by enacting his favourite Great War with the toy soldiers from the tin with the chipped red paint. He gave her an enquiring look as she stormed in.

"Everything alright, Kagome?"

"What does Mother _see_ in that horrible man?!" Kagome raged. Souta blinked, bemused.

"Which horrible man?"

"That- that Holy man! If indeed that's what he is!"

"You mean Onigumo?"

Kagome stared at him.

"Of course I mean Onigumo! How many holy men does Mother have whispering lies into her desperate ears? She wants a miracle. He knows she thinks that he can give one to her!"

"Despicable," Souta agreed, knowing exactly to what miracle his sister referred and choosing not to comment upon it.

Kagome sat heavily on the side of the bed, upsetting the tiny soldiers decked in brilliant blue, which Souta had carefully set upright on the soft, moveable blankets.

"She sends him to spy on me," she said spitefully.

Souta, who had quickly lost interest in Kagome's tirade, made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat which Kagome took as a sign to continue ranting.

"As if I would sell us out to the demons!" she huffed grumpily.

A timid knock on the door put an end to Kagome's diatribe, to Souta's relief.

"What?" growled Kagome, still smouldering with anger.

The rather frightened, moon-faced head of one of the servants poked out from behind the door.

"Mistress Higaurashi wishes to speak with you, Lady Kagome."

Kagome groaned. She hadn't believed that her day could possibly have gotten any worse.

"Very well," she said in a long-suffering sort of voice. "Where is she?"

"The parlour, Lady."

Kagome nodded, and dismissed the young woman, who quickly popped back out of sight.

"Don't wear yourself out, Souta." Kagome said, as she stood up. Then, with mock piety, she added, "I must see what our dear Mother wants of me." She then dropped the facetious tone. "It'll be a most unbearable conversation, I imagine. We can never manage to hold our tongues when in each other's presence." Kagome sighed and left Souta to reassemble his frontlines.

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Kagome wasn't pleased to discover that her mother was not alone in the parlour when she arrived. The parlour was a very feminine pink in colour, and contained only things delicate and womanly. Lady Higaurashi was perched on the edge of one of the cream-coloured wingchairs, a frighteningly stern expression on her face. Onigumo, as much of an enigma as he'd ever been, stood behind her. His bandages hid all but his glinting muddy eyes. Whatever expression he wore was more than adequately obscured. He looked too dark and bulky in the dainty, gentle room. Kagome chose to ignore him. 

"You requested my presence, Mother," Kagome said tightly, fixing her attention on the small, but powerfully angry woman.

"I heard something most horrible, Kagome, from my dear Onigumo."

"Is that so?" Kagome asked irritably. Her eyes flickered to the silent man who stood at her mother's side.

"It was a rumour about you and your quite unacceptable behaviour. Do you care to explain? Or shall I enlighten you myself?"

Kagome swallowed.

"Honestly," she said, "I don't have the slightest clue what you're talking about."

"Then allow me to refresh your memory. One word ought to do it; Kaede. Yes, Kagome," she added when she saw her daughter's look of dawning understanding, "I know all about your excursions to the healing woman's hut, but I would rather I heard it from you."

"Why don't you let your pet Onigumo tell you instead, since you seem so inclined to believe whatever he tells you?!" Kagome snapped. So her mother _had_ been using Onigumo to spy on her!

"Silence! Impertinent child, how dare you speak to me in such a manner?!"

Knowing better than to argue when her mother wore her battle-face, Kagome quieted down.

"I only wanted to help Souta," she mumbled.

"You forget your place, Kagome! It is not for noblewomen such as yourself to practise arts that debase their heritage. Your desire to help your brother is commendable, but in this instance, misplaced. You are to cease all this nonsense of Kaede's at once!"

Kagome gasped as she suddenly became aware of a very unwelcome consequence of her behaviour.

"Mother, you cannot possibly intend to punish Kaede! I forced her into it!"

Lady Higaurashi gave a wry smile.

"I suspected as much. You are as stubborn as a mule! Such a trait is not acceptable in a woman of a status such as yours. You bring shame upon our family, Kagome!"

"So Kaede will go unpunished?" Kagome asked hopefully. She didn't think that she could bear it if the old woman had to suffer for her own foolhardiness.

Her mother waved an impatient hand in the air.

"Of course. We need her. But you shall not get off with a mere warning this time. All too often have you compromised our family's honour! When will you learn?!"

The last sentence was said with an air of exasperation and Kagome made no attempt to answer.

A soft voice interrupted the terse silence.

"Ladies, if I may interrupt, I have a suggestion that you may find…useful."

Kagome stared at Onigumo, shocked at his boldness. How could he assume that he had the right to interrupt a conversation of noblewomen when he himself held absolutely no status? He was overstepping the line, surely! Her mother would never allow it! Or at least, that would have been the case had it been anyone else.

"What is it Onigumo?" Even Lady Higaurashi's voice held a bite of impatience.

"Lady Kagome might show her repentance at the Shikon no Tama Shrine. The long journey will certainly give her time to reconsider her actions. To pray for the life of her brother at the feet our Goddess might assuage her feelings of helplessness and set her back on the course of respectability. Lady Higaurashi, it is only a suggestion, but this humble servant would be most honoured if you would consider it."

Lady Higaurashi frowned.

"The Shikon no Tama Shrine? Why not the shrine at the village?"

"That is the shrine of the common people. Shikon no Tama is a shrine for the holiest, most pious of men and women, where only the most worthy, the most noble can pray."

"That may have been the case in the past, Onigumo, but times have changed."

"The journey will do your daughter good and perhaps she can see what happens when reputation is lost."

The older woman considered this for a moment, and when she spoke she sounded quite pleased.

"Of course, Onigumo. Your suggestion sounds most wise. In fact, I can think of nothing better myself! If it was good enough for our illustrious ancestors, then it is certainly good enough for us. Kagome, you heard what Onigumo had to say and I agree. If you would be so kind, Onigumo, as to escort my daughter to the Shikon no Tama Shrine I shall be most grateful."

Then she turned to Kagome.

"May the Goddess forgive you for your selfishness, Kagome. Maybe you will finally see what can happen to someone, or something, that loses its status and its honour. I want you to relinquish all your foolish intents to learn the art of healing. I can only hope that you learn the lesson that the Shrine of the Shikon no Tama can teach you."

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There! First chapter done. I hope you liked it! 


	2. Chapter 2

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**Disclaimer: **Inuyasha doesn't belong to me. If it did, I would be one happy gal, that's for sure!

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**_A Born Healer_**

**Chapter Two: The Room of the Unrelenting Mystic Light.**

Kagome couldn't believe her bad luck that the very day she had to travel to the Shrine of the Shikon no Tama was the day that nature would decide to send the worst storm in months to the village of the Second South-Western Outpost. As much as she'd begged her mother for a postponement, Lady Higaurashi hadn't budged, claiming that the sooner Kagome repented for her actions, the sooner their family could forget the shame. After all, the scowling woman had gone on to say, she'd brought it on herself.

Thus Kagome had found herself rattling along in a tiny black death-trap of a carriage accompanied by creaking wheels and the rain lashing at grimy windows. Kagome had the feeling that this particular gig of theirs hadn't been used, or even cleaned, since her father's disappearance six years ago.

Onigumo sat opposite her, his dark eyes watching her expressionlessly. He hadn't said a word since they'd left the Higaurashi Manor. His unwavering stare and creepy silence unnerved Kagome, who found herself gazing out of the window to avoid looking at him.

Outside, things were far from pleasant. A raging, howling wind tore at the surrounding forest and sent leaves, twigs and other debris flying past the window. At times, Kagome was sure that the carriage would be swept off the road and sent hurtling through the air, and was convinced that the wheels had twice completely lifted off the muddy road. The world was depressingly bleak under a canopy of dark grey clouds.

Finally, after a winding uphill journey the carriage slowed to a halt next to a pair of tall, cracked marble pillars that seemed to hold aloft the very sky itself. Kagome had the impression that they were on the verge of breaking apart totally. This was not exactly comforting, especially considering the state of the weather, and what Kagome thought could most definitely be gale-force winds.

The coachman, who was already soaked through to the skin, clambered off his elevated seat at the head of the carriage, and tried to calm the two horses, which were stamping and shrieking wildly like creatures possessed. Clearly they were just as frightened of the weather as Kagome was, had she been able to admit to that fact. Then he rushed to open the door to help Kagome climb out.

The rain was even worse once she'd gotten out into it than when she'd been watching from the safety of her sheltered seat. She groaned as she felt the material of her skirts cling to her skin within seconds.

Onigumo took his time coming out, and immediately dismissed the coachman who seemed eager to leave. Kagome couldn't blame him.

Then she realised that she was alone, in an isolated forest in the middle of a thunderstorm, with Onigumo. She found herself more than a little scared. Somehow, she knew that Onigumo had a nasty, violent streak. She could only hope that it didn't reveal itself today.

He barely cast her a glance, but turned to the pillars and the steps which they flanked. Kagome knew that they reached to the very summit of the mountain, where the Shrine of the Shikon no Tama had been built. It would be an arduous and difficult climb.

Without a word, Onigumo began the ascent. Kagome immediately made to follow. What was worse than being stuck in a storm in a forest alone with Onigumo was being stuck in a storm in a forest alone without him.

She had barely reached the first step when a particularly aggressive gust of wind almost blew her into a tree and was followed by a resounding crash. She gasped with fright and whirled around to see what had happened.

One of the two pillars, the one that had seemed less robust to Kagome's inexpert eyes, had collapsed, unable to withstand the elements. Shattered fragments of marble were scattered around the broken stump and a large piece, as big as Kagome's torso, had landed a scant meter from where she stood. She stared, heart pumping frantically, suddenly aware that had the accident occurred mere few seconds earlier she would have died.

The thought made her blood run cold.

"Ma'am! Are you alright?!"

The voice made Kagome jump and pulled her away from her morbid thoughts. She didn't recognise it and frowned, wondering who else could possibly be up the mountain in such foul weather. She briefly wondered if it was the coachman returning for some reason she couldn't fathom, but upon opening her eyes she was met with a strange face.

"Ma'am," the man said again, obviously concerned. "Are you hurt?"

Kagome shook her head, her senses returning slowly. She observed the newcomer, who wore the purple robes of the Monks of the Third Order of the Goddess. Well, Kagome thought, that makes sense; this _is_ a shrine, after all.

Aware that her wet, lank hair was sticking to her face and obscuring her brown eyes, she pulled the dripping strands behind her ear. The man's face lit up. She eyed him curiously and maybe a touch warily.

"Ah!" he cried, raising his arms in the air as though saluting the Goddess herself. "What vision of beauty has graced this lowly mortal? Be she angel or seraph? Fairy or nymph?" He lowered his gaze from the spilling heavens back to her face and before Kagome knew what was happening he'd whipped around with astonishing speed and grasped her behind. She shrieked and kicked out, getting him where she knew it would hurt.

"PERVERT!" she screeched, scrambling away from him as far as she could possibly go before falling off the stairway. She glared at him as he doubled over and moaned in pain.

"My lady," he panted, once he'd begun to recover. "You pack quite a punch for such a small thing. I like that."

"What do you think you're doing, pervert! You're a monk for goodness' sake!"

The monk ignored this statement, and instead straightened with some semblance of dignity and bowed with a ridiculous flourish until his forehead nearly reached the ground. Rivulets of rain ran down his black hair and dripped off the end of his nose.

"Miroku at your service, my dear, dear lady."

Kagome, determining that the man was merely perverted and not an actual threat, bristled.

"I am not your dear anything," she snapped, glancing up at the mountain's peak.

It was then that she noticed that Onigumo was nowhere to be seen. For a holy man, he appeared to be very fit. She turned back to the monk.

"Have you seen my companion?"

Miroku looked puzzled.

"I have not seen anyone on the holy mountain today, except for a man with a carriage and two fine horses, which I assume belong to you, my lady."

Kagome frowned.

"Are you sure? He's not exactly hard to miss."

Miroku nodded, his bemused expression deepening.

"I'm sure."

Kagome sighed, whether out of relief or irritation she wasn't sure. She was thankful that she was no longer alone with Onigumo, whom she didn't trust one jot, but she was irked that he'd disappeared on her.

"Well," Miroku said, "Seeing as your escort has vanished, allow me to guide you to the Shrine. It would be my pleasure."

Kagome gave him a guarded look.

"I'm sure it would be," she said sardonically. "But I only agree on the condition that you do not touch me. Anywhere."

"Oh, you wound me, my lady!" This melodramatic statement was accompanied by an equally melodramatic hand to the heart.

Kagome's initial assessment of the stairs had been correct; it _was_ an arduous and difficult climb. She could not boast that she was especially athletic, but she was young and knew that such a task should not be hard for her. However, by the time she had struggled to the top, she'd all but lost her lungs and legs. Miroku seemed amused by her efforts, but was wise enough to say nothing.

Awaiting her at the entrance to the shrine was Onigumo, who was looking rather more agitated than usual. He kept glancing behind him, beyond the bronze statue of the first Priest of the Shikon no Tama Shrine. Kagome wondered how he'd gotten up there so fast.

"Ah," said Onigumo upon her appearance. "You have arrived at last. Whilst you pray I shall remain outside."

Kagome pursed her lips and glowered at him, but turned instead to Miroku.

"Take me to the inner shrine so that I may pray," she commanded.

As Miroku led her to her requested destination, Kagome noticed just how dilapidated and empty the shrine was. In fact, there didn't seem to be a single other soul present. She glanced at Miroku's back as he led her down a long hallway and wondered incredulously if he lived in the huge place alone. Kagome didn't know much about how shrines were run because she had never been particularly pious. Her mother had always despaired at this most horrific of deficiencies. Kagome wished now that she'd paid more attention to talk of temples and religion for she was sure that a single monk couldn't manage a shrine like this one on his own.

"Miroku," she asked tentatively. When he turned around, eyebrow raised in curiosity, she continued. "Where is everybody? Surely you're not the only person here?"

He sighed sadly, the cheerful monk gone and replaced by someone older, with more burdens on his shoulders than he'd had before. Kagome was shocked by the transformation; she had thought her question innocent enough and Miroku seemed to be a happy-go-lucky sort of guy.

"That," he said heavily, "is a long story."

Kagome waited expectantly for him to continue and, after a while, he did.

"I'm surprised that you don't know. Most people do, even those who do not live in the nearby village. As you are probably aware, the Shrine of the Shikon no Tama was once one of the most sacred places in the land."

They turned into a stairwell, once more in silence. It seemed as though Miroku had nothing more to say, and they descended into the belly of the shrine with barely a word between them. Miroku didn't even attempt to grope Kagome once. Then, finally, he spoke.

"They say that this place is now cursed. That is why there is no one here. A plague, you see, seven or so years ago. Everybody either died, or left this place." Miroku gave a small, sad smile. "I alone remained."

Kagome nodded. She'd heard some such rumour before, but hadn't realised that it had been about this particular shrine.

"I suppose that's why they had the new shrine built, in the village. Is that right?" she asked.

Miroku nodded.

"Yes. I miss this place as it once was, but it is all but abandoned now. Sometimes I wonder why I shouldn't leave, but then the Goddess tells me, in her own mysterious ways, that my time here is not yet at an end. But I feel, in my very heart, that soon I must leave this shrine, and seek my future elsewhere. My heart yearns for it, yet it fears it too. I just have to wait for Her to show me my path and be content with where I am for now."

"Who will take care of the shrine once you are gone?"

Miroku gave a short, bitter, bark of a laugh at this.

"This shrine will never return to even a shadow of its past glory. Once it was a draw card for many thousands of pilgrims. Now it is less than a memory, and in a matter of a mere seven years. Truth be told, the shrine died long ago. I am the only fool who refuses to accept that. It is almost time for the Shikon no Tama shrine to embrace its fate and fade away."

"Why did you stay?"

Miroku pondered this for a while and when he finally spoke, it was with fondness, the way that one speaks of a long dead friend, which, Kagome realised, this shrine actually was to him.

"I stayed because this is the only home I have ever known. This place offered me everything when I had nothing. I would not abandon it now, not without the blessing of the Goddess. Ah, we are here. The inner shrine."

They had stopped in front of a tall pair of silver doors which glinted in the faint firelight flickering from iron brackets on the stone walls. Intricate carvings of phoenixes and angels adorned what would have been a plain surface. Kagome reached out and traced the etched lines of a phoenix's tail feather with one delicate finger.

Miroku pushed those doors open with more than a little effort and they parted with a horrible scraping noise. He led her into a completely dark room, where no windows allowed the even the smallest chink of light. Miroku seemed to know his way about, though, for he walked purposefully forward, a torch of flaming light in his hand which did nothing to pierce the inky black.

Kagome was more than perplexed. How on earth could Miroku's torch not dispel any of the darkness? The room seemed determined not to let even the tiniest bit of light inside!

Then, all of a sudden, the room lit up brilliantly. Kagome gasped, quite dazzled, and Miroku looked very pleased at her reaction. There was nothing in the room to illuminate it so; no fire, no windows. Nothing. Yet it seemed to glow, almost ethereally.

"I told you," Miroku said proudly, "that this was once the most sacred of sites. This is why; the Room of the Unrelenting Mystic Light, the inner shrine, said to purify the souls of even the most villainous thug. Perhaps even the foulest of demons. This is the Goddess's gift to this shrine."

He indicated toward the end of the room.

"Oh my…" was all that Kagome could say. She'd always known that each shrine (supposedly) had a divine gift from the Goddess. The one in the village had a statue of its founding priest that (supposedly) spewed forth fully-grown cats from its open mouth. Most of these 'gifts' were perfectly useless and made Kagome speculate whether maybe the Goddess had a sense of humour.

At the far end of the room, a small ivory effigy of the Goddess sat upon an elaborate golden podium which was so delicate it could have been mistaken to have been made of lace. In her dainty fingers she held a round glimmering stone the colour of a young maiden's blush. It glowed eerily, and Kagome knew that it was this tiny jewel that had lit the room up so brightly. She slipped off her shoes, padded down the plush blue runner and knelt beneath the kind eyes of the sculpture.

Closing her eyes, she began to pray. She prayed for Souta, begging the Goddess to spare his life and return him to his family, safe and whole.

Strangely, as she uttered those words in her mind her whole body began to feel lighter, less restricted by the confines of her skin. She felt as if her very soul and her body had drifted apart, reached some sort of strange nirvana and returned to their rightful places, more whole than they ever had been. It was an odd, unnerving sensation, but more than a little pleasant. She let herself bask in the warmth and enjoy the rapture that invaded every cell in her body and every nuance of her mind.

When she finally opened her eyes, she discovered that the ivory figure and the spherical gem she cradled to her chest had started to glow so vibrantly it hurt to look at it. Then all light died away as abruptly as it had come.

"What on earth?" she breathed, completely and utterly awed. A gentle touch on her arm brought her back to reality, and she found herself being escorted out of the completely pitch black room to the corridor with the flickering torches.

"Hey," she growled, when she discovered, as she should have realised first instant, that it was Miroku who had been holding her arm. "I thought I told you not to touch!"

Miroku withdrew his hand, but didn't seem to care about her admonishing tone.

"You got the full treatment, huh?" he asked, a quirk of a smile lingering on his lips.

"The full treatment?" Kagome asked, nonplussed.

"That feeling you got in there, of complete harmony, of complete inner strength. I call that the treatment, and that's what the Room of Unrelenting Mystic Light does to the people who pray there."

"You mean everyone who prays here feels…that?"

"Yes, and no."

Kagome knitted her eyebrows together.

"What do you mean, yes and no?"

"Everybody feels the Goddess's presence in some way inside the inner shrine, and everybody feels at peace; that's what I call the treatment. But for you… the Goddess gave you more than that. I think she spoke within you." At Kagome's bewildered and disbelieving expression Miroku hastened to explain.

"It has only happened once before, many years ago. She told me about it, that it was euphoria beyond anything, and that it had revealed to her the truth about all things of this world and that, my dear lady, is what I refer to as the full treatment."

Kagome stared at him, trying to ascertain whether he was mad or not. Was that what she had experienced? Had she been whispered the truth of all things that existed in this reality? No, of course she hadn't, and yet… she felt that she had because she knew (it was almost a compulsion) that the Goddess had given her 'the full treatment' to prepare her for something, something terrible. Kagome just had no idea what on earth that could possibly be.

"Who?" she asked, after a long silence.

Miroku started, and looked quite confused.

"That woman who felt what I felt in that room…who was she?"

At that Miroku's face fell, and he turned away from her.

"Kikyo. Her name was Kikyo. She was a priestess here, and extremely talented. Gifted by the Goddess, people said, and a powerful healer. The inner shrine, it affected her differently to how it affected all of us. It affected her like it affected you. It made her strong, unnaturally so, but in the end, not strong enough." Miroku suddenly cocked his head and studied her for a moment. "You know," he said, "you look a lot like her, when she was younger."

Then Miroku pulled the silver doors tightly shut, and Kagome stared at her reflection in the patterned metal for a moment pondering all that she had learned. She didn't believe in the Goddess, not really. So why had that most divine being chosen her?

* * *

When they returned to the surface, for the Room of the Unrelenting Mystic Light was situated well below ground, they saw that the storm had ended, as though Kagome's strange encounter with divine power had warded it off. As was usual after a bout of rain, the world seemed lusher and more vibrant than it usually did; the plants appeared to practically glow with colour. The sky had cleared, all tumultuous clouds having dispersed. The only thing that seemed wrong with the picture was the notable absence of Kagome's escort.

"Where on earth could he have wandered off too?" snarled Kagome, irked that he'd just left her for the second time in one day. His job _was_ to keep an eye on her, after all, as much as she hated it.

After several minutes searching for him around the admittedly poorly tended grounds – evidently Miroku was having trouble coping with the sheer amount of maintenance that the place required, or perhaps he was just lazy – they found him standing in a corner of the cemetery, surrounded by angelic statues in pious poses and chunky stone slabs with small inscriptions inscribed into their rough surfaces. He was staring at one such grave, marked only by a flattened rock imbedded into the earth.

"Onigumo!" Kagome called as she approached him, unable able to keep the exasperation from her voice. He turned as he heard her, his bandages obscuring any expression that his distorted visage might have held.

"Lady Kagome," he returned somewhat coldly. He had been spared the necessity of shouting for his charge had suddenly appeared at his elbow.

"What have you been doing while I was praying? I had to look all over for you!"

"Lady Kagome, you are a healer, are you not?" came Onigumo's voice once again, completely devoid of any warmth.

Miroku, who seemed ecstatic to have finally unearthed his pretty visitor's name (Kagome had refused to tell the lecher herself), couldn't help but let out an exclamation of surprise. Kagome sighed, realising that the discovery had probably perplexed him, for ladies did not partake in such lowly arts.

"That topic is not up for discussion, Onigumo," Kagome said fiercely, "That is why we came here in the first place."

"Of course, my lady. However, I must ask you a favour and it is only out of desperation that I do so."

Kagome eyed him suspiciously and wondered what his favour had to do with her being a healer. Her eyes suddenly widened in realisation; Onigumo wanted her to heal someone.

* * *

Chapter two finished! Hope it was done to your satisfaction.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Inuyasha. So there.

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* * *

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**Chapter Three: The mysterious lodger**

"Who is it?" Kagome demanded, once she'd connected the dots in her mind. Onigumo didn't look surprised or startled at the fact that she seemed to know exactly what it was that he wanted.

"There is a lodger here. He is gravely ill."

"And?"

Onigumo shot her a dry sort of a look.

"I need you to heal him. Kaede said you were talented."

"Flattery will not work on me," Kagome huffed.

It was then that Miroku decided to become involved in the conversation.

"How did you know that I have a lodger here?" His voice carried no accusation, just curiosity.

Onigumo ignored his question."You must help him," he urged Kagome.

She sighed and looked to Miroku for assistance, but he seemed too baffled as to how Oningumo knew of his guest to even acknowledge her imploring eyes.

Why on earth was she trying to get out of this anyway? Wasn't this the very reason why she had begged Kaede to instruct her in the art of healing? Weren't her gifts given to her in order for her to help others who could not help themselves? The shame of her selfishness was almost too much to bear.

"Of course I shall aid this man, Onigumo," she finally said, inwardly berating herself for even thinking to ignore a poor, sick man's plight. How could she forgive herself if he died? She knew she couldn't.

Onigumo's face remained impassive.

"Very well," he said after a lengthy pause. "I shall leave you to tend to the man. The monk shall show you to him." And with a short jerk of his head, which Kagome took to be a bow, he strode away back in the direction from which they had come.

"I still don't see how he could have possibly known about him!" Miroku exclaimed again, astonished. Kagome, though, wasn't interested in hearing the lecherous monk wail and moan. Instead she approached the grave which Onigumo had been gazing at, bent over and examined the crude headstone. Scratched into the flat rock was the name "Kikyo", followed by a date of death (some six years ago) and a short, nonsensical epitaph. She tried to figure out how Onigumo knew the priestess and why, of all places, he had been hovering over her burial site but drew only a blank. She decided that, however unpleasant the man might be, he still had a right to his privacy. What he did, and who he knew, was entirely up to him and none of her business.

With that decided, Kagome abruptly turned to Miroku, who seemed to be struggling with some very difficult concept, most probably how his 'secret' lodger had become seemingly public knowledge.

"Who exactly _is_ your lodger, Miroku?"

The monk laughed nervously.

"Ah, my lady Kagome. That is indeed a most interesting question. I only wish I could give you an answer."

Kagome quirked an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"You don't even know his name? For all you are aware he could be a dangerous criminal!"

"Now, now, Lady Kagome," Miroku said hastily, "he was ill, so hardly a threat. I can take care of myself anyway, even if he was." Then he added, quite defensively, as though he thought she didn't believe him, "He _was_ sick! I couldn't just leave him out there, could I? It is a monk's duty to selflessly do what he can to help others."

* * *

The place that Miroku took Kagome to was separate from the rest of the shrine. It was a small thatched hut that had definitely seen better days and lay on the very edge of the shrine's grounds where unruly forest encroached upon the wilted gardens.

"Isn't this an odd place to put up a guest?" she enquired, once they'd come to a halt a few meters from the door. The Shrine of the Shikon no Tama was by no means small and had obviously once been home to many monks, nuns, priests and priestesses. Surely, now that Miroku was the sole occupant, there must be some empty rooms far more hospitable than this one?

"This is where I found him," Miroku explained. "He was in no fit state to be moved, and I didn't try to for fear that it'd cause his already fragile condition to worsen. How your chaperone knew he was here I have no clue. This is about the most isolated place in the whole shrine, and generally does not draw the interest of visitors. It's a storage hut, you see."

"Ah…" Kagome nodded, understanding. "Just how long has he been here?"

Miroku considered this for a moment before answering, "Little more than two weeks. He barely seems to acknowledge me, though I'm not sure whether that's his illness speaking, or just evidence of a foul personality. I've tried to get a healer to come here and tend to him, but have been refused each time; superstition that this place is cursed has proved to be quite an effective deterrent. The food I leave for him remains largely untouched."

"And his condition?"

"Pretty bad, I think, though I'm no expert. I don't know what it is that ails him but, for some peculiar reason, it does seem familiar to me. In my days as a wandering monk I saw many things, including diseases. Trying to pin down one of them, secreted away in the unreachable parts of my memory, has proven impossible, but I know that I've seen this disease before! It dances upon my fingertips, so close, but never any closer!"

By the end of his speech he was so frustrated that he had to take a short walk away from Kagome and stare into the depths of the forest for several moments.

"I warn you that it is not pleasant in there, especially for a lady," he said solemnly, once he'd returned.

Kagome's anger flared.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'll be quite fine!"

She flung the door open and stalked inside, leaving a quite bewildered Miroku staring after her.

Once inside, the very first thing Kagome did was to press the fabric of one of her sleeves to her nose. The room smelt awful, like sweat coupled with the sweet odour of rot. The stench was horribly strong, and it was all she could do to refrain from retching.

It was dark in there, faint beams of light dribbling in from cracks in the wall and the shutters of the windows. An assortment of tools, mostly for tending gardens, leaned against the walls, or was stacked on the dusty floor. It appeared that they hadn't been touched in a long time; far longer than Miroku's guest had taken up residence there.

He lay on his stomach, deathly still, upon a thin mattress and the only visible part of him was a flame of stringy black hair sticking out from beneath the blanket that had been draped over his form.

Kagome rushed to his side, knelt and pulled the blanket away from his face. She held back a groan as she realised that he was much worse than she had anticipated; he was unconscious, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his yellowing skin. She held her palm to his damp forehead, plastered with thick strands of his hair, and noted that he was burning white hot.

"Miroku!" she called out. The monk, who had been hovering by the door uncertainly, hurried forward. He was clearly eager to help.

"We need to cool him down," she said urgently. Miroku frowned for a moment, then nodded.

"I shall certainly see what I can do."

"And I will need you to bring me a mortar and pestle, lots of water, and some herbs. They shouldn't be hard to find in this forest. Can you do that for me?"

Once again Miroku nodded, and Kagome described to him the different kinds of medicinal plants that she needed him to find for her. He seemed to take it all in fairly well, and Kagome suspected that he had a sharp memory. When he had dashed away she returned her attention to her patient who had still not moved.

When Miroku returned, almost twenty minutes later, there was no change in the man's condition – he was still out cold and as hot as a poker to the touch. Miroku had his hands full and he set down his load carefully onto the floor. Kagome pulled the metal basin of water closer to herself, ripped the hem of her skirt right off and dipped it into the water.

"Lady Kagome…" Miroku began to say, but she cut him off with a glare and he retreated back to his former position at the doorway.

She returned to the task at hand, wringing water out of the ripped fabric and placing it on the man's forehead in an attempt to alleviant some of the heat of his fever. His eyes flickered open at the cool sensation and he stared at her for a moment in baffled amazement.

"Ki…Kikyo?" he managed to rasp, before succumbing once more to unconsciousness.

Kagome drew back in alarm. Ever since she had stepped within the boundaries of the shrine of the Shikon no Tama, a woman named Kikyo had resurfaced, again and again. It was just a little bit scary. Did she really look so much like her? Kagome shuddered at the thought. Whoever this Kikyo person was, she was very much an enigma and Kagome didn't like how she was beginning to factor in this mystery.

She quickly shook herself out of her daze.

"Miroku," she said, taking control of the situation. "I need you to take those herbs and pound them into a paste with the mortar and pestle. It needs to be incredibly fine. Once it has reached that consistency thin it out with water. Be quick now, we don't have much time before he rouses."

Miroku jumped forward to obey her order and soon the room was filled with the sounds of grinding as he pulverised the small leaves.

Kagome knew that there was only one thing that she could do and reached forward tentatively, afraid to try. After all, the few times that she had attempted directing energy flow had failed dismally, and had left her with near no energy of her own. Kaede had been impressed with her small progress in the area, but Kagome had always known that she could better. Much better. Now looked like the perfect time to see whether she'd overestimated herself.

Kaede had told her that there were healers and then there were _healers._ Kagome hadn't understood the difference until it had been explicitly explained to her. Healers, Kaede had said, had not one iota of mystical talent and relied on medicines and science to treat their patients. There was nothing wrong with that, Kaede had been quick to say, it was just one method of reaching the (hopefully) same result. _Healers_ were gifted by the Goddess, able to reach hidden holy powers within themselves and use them to heal others. Kaede had been infinitely pleased to learn that Kagome was the latter.

"I'm going to try something tricky now, Miroku, so don't be alarmed."

Despite her nerves, Kagome's voice held true, and for that small fact she was grateful. For some reason it buoyed her resolve. She knew what happened to healers who over-extended themselves, using too much of their abilities. She had even seen it once, when she was younger. It often resulted in death. She had no desire to experience it for herself.

Miroku didn't look up from what he was doing, but sloshed a small amount of water into the small stone cup in which he'd been crushing herbs and grunted.

Kagome steadied her increasingly hurried breaths and closed her eyes, preparing to do what she could. Reaching inside of herself, she searched for her elusive energy, coaxing it out with gentle words. When it finally surfaced, her mind latched onto it and drew it fully out of its hiding place and directed it into her very veins, which immediately ignited into a burning pain. Kagome gritted her teeth and held on, despite the fact that her whole body felt as though it had been doused in flame. She was vaguely aware that Miroku was staring at her in horror and shouting her name, but she forced herself to shut him out for she couldn't afford to lose her concentration at this crucial point. If she did, it might very well end in death for her.

She furrowed her brows and forced her energy to fly through arms, and it felt as though it was scorching a path through her very flesh before erupting out of her fingertips in a blazing pink glow. It was only then that she allowed herself to open her eyes.

Her fingers were awash with a pulsing pink glow now that the initial burst of light had died down. She stared in surprise; she'd never managed this before. In fact, all her former attempts hadn't even gotten past searching for her energy.

"Are you alright?" Miroku frantically said, making to shake her back to reality. She snapped at him to stay where he was.

"Don't touch me! You would burn alive. That is why healers work alone. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine."

Miroku nodded dumbly and drew away, leaving Kagome free to administer her skills to the man in front of her who seemed but a step away from death.

She brushed her fingers against his burning forehead and was gratified when she heard him moan; it seemed that he was rousing from his disease-induced slumber. She could feel her energy flowing out of the tips of her fingers and absorbing into his skin. His shallow breathing became more regular, more relaxed. Kagome moved her glowing hands to his neck, which was still half hidden by his hair. She pushed the damp strands aside and pressed her first two fingers against the underside of his jaw, where his pulse would be. She frowned as her fingers ran over a crusted purple welt and she quickly jerked back her hand and bent closer to examine the swelling.

It was nasty, and disconcertingly familiar. Kagome suddenly realised why; they were just like Souta's own welts, which were only now starting to fade. Kaede couldn't determine whether this was a sign that he was healing well, or a sign that the disease would only become more aggressive. Kagome had been horrified at the thought that whatever plagued her brother could possibly get worse. It was now apparent that he wasn't the only one suffering from this particular ailment.

Knowing that all attempts at modesty was stupid at a time such as this, Kagome threw the blanket off the man (who still lay on his stomach) and ripped his sweat-drenched tunic apart. She could only hope that she would find no more of the ghastly wounds, but was sorely disappointed when she saw that they peppered his back.

In addition to the numerous violet lumps on his back was something else. A birthmark perhaps? Kagome inspected it further. No. Not a birthmark. A scar.

She drew in a sharp breath. What sort of devilry was this? For the scar was in a most peculiar shape and it took a moment before comprehension dawned; it was a spider. A grotesque parody of a spider was scrawled in deformed flesh upon the man's skin.

The man began to stir and within moments he was fully awake and looking very confused.

"Kikyo," he said feebly. "Kikyo, why are you helping me?"

"Shh," Kagome soothed, ignoring the fact that the name Kikyo had once again cropped up. "Reserve your strength."

The man didn't seem to hear her, for he continued to speak, his words punctuated by laborious gasps of breath.

"I didn't know…that you…were a healer."

Kagome could feel her concentration wavering and angrily pushed it back on focus, but she'd never attempted something so taxing before and her body and mind were protesting her recklessness. She felt dizzy now, and her head seemed dislocated from the rest of her body, watching everything from an impossible height.

"Miroku," she murmured. "Bring that medicine to me."

The small amount of liquid, still in the mortar in which it had been crushed, was thrust under her nose almost immediately. Kagome would have smiled, if she could have spared the energy. Evidently, Miroku was keeping a close eye on her.

She dribbled some of the concoction into the prone man's slack mouth and he responded by spluttering most of it back out. Patiently she trickled some more in, knowing that it tasted quite foul. Eventually, and she wasn't quite sure how she'd managed it herself, she'd gotten a good teaspoon of the stuff into his gut. Lying his head back down on the makeshift pillow she allowed herself to finally give in to her fatigue.

Kagome knew, even as she hit the floor seconds away from a dead faint, that she'd used far too much energy. She was a novice, after all, who had never before even dreamed of attempting such a thing and she knew nothing of the control required to perform energy direction.

"Lady Kagome!" Miroku cried, concern etched all over his face.

"The worst is over. He'll be fine," she panted. "And so will I. I've never been able to do that before…do you think that it was that mystical room?"

Miroku plainly thought that she was talking nonsense, and his worry only deepened.

"What have you done to yourself?" he muttered.

"He…thought that…I was Ki…Kikyo."

Miroku tried to smile, though the result was strained.

"Well, I did say that the two of you looked similar, didn't I?"

"Yes. Yes you did," Kagome said faintly, as unconsciousness finally overtook her.


End file.
